


This Was Good Enough

by fragile



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Jake Park is a Mess, M/M, Mentions of other survivors - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragile/pseuds/fragile
Summary: Jake Park isn't quite sure how the game between him and the killer began, but it was a distraction for the hellscape they were in and that was good enough for him.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Jake Park
Comments: 10
Kudos: 235





	This Was Good Enough

Jake Park looked into those hollow, dark eyes and saw the devil himself.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been in this position and certainly, it would not be the last. He held his tongue as his shirt is lifted, as calloused hands ran across his chest, and as fingers pressed against the yellowing bruises of trials past. There is no kindness to the touches, only a fascination. Yet Jake leaned into them each and every time. In this world, there was no room for romantic intimacy— so he learned to accept the meager scraps of affection he could take.

He tilted his head back against the wall, allowing the man— _or rather, the monster_ — easy access to his throat. Teeth dig into his skin and finally elicit a moan from him as a warm liquid trickles downwards. He doesn’t care what the killer does to him. Maybe he did, once upon a time, but now what mattered was how good it felt to be used in such a manner. He’s simply a puppet of The Shape’s design and that was perfectly fine for both of them.

_“Michael,”_ he breathed out as he ran his hand through the synthetic brown hair of the other’s mask. He’s tried a few times to fully unmask him, each time ending in a stab to the throat and dissatisfaction once he awoke by the campfire. So he’s given up trying. _This was good enough._ It’s what he had to tell himself.

The other doesn’t reply. He never did. But Jake heard his quiet pants and that was enough for him. The Shape continued to make a bloody mess of Jake’s body, marking and claiming him as his own. His body felt like it’s been cast into the fiery pits of hell, screaming and aching for more, more, _more._ He felt the killer’s breath on his hardened nipple, a tongue following soon after and Jake swore he was going to die from the sensation.

He could still vividly recount their first encounter— The Shape had hunted him down relentlessly. Jake didn’t even have a chance to do a single generator before he found himself mercilessly killed. Jake gasped out in pleasure as the man brought him back to the present, his hand snaking down the survivor’s pants and stroking his aching member. It had risen to life very early, much to Jake’s embarrassment, when the killer pinned him against the wall.

The Shape always did it a little too rough, like he was doing it out of obligation more than anything else. It was always clumsy too, like he hadn’t had much practice. In a way, perhaps, it was almost cute. But Jake knew that it was simply because the other didn’t care to learn how to get better. Another moan escaped him. His hands fell from the head of the mask to the killer’s back, digging his nails deep into the other, as his balls were squeezed like a toy. He doubted that it hurt the killer— he wasn’t even sure pain was something The Shape could feel. 

Jake whimpered as the killer squeezed and pressed his finger against the head of his cock. It was their secret language that meant _don’t come yet._ Which was a damn shame, because Jake was going crazy with the need to. 

The first few times they faced each other in trials, it always ended the same. With either a knife through his chest or a hook in his back. Jake was not a terrible survivor by any means, especially as he’d been one of the first to come to this terrible world. He prided himself on his ability to keep his friends and himself alive. Yet The Shape always seemed determined to ruin that.

“You’re his obsession,” Laurie had told him, sympathetically, when he pulled her aside to get information. She had come from the same place as the killer, had faced him, and lived to tell the tale.

“But why me?” Jake had asked.

But Laurie never had an answer for him. Even now, as The Shape held him tight against the gloomy green walls of the chapel, Jake didn’t have an answer. Jake buried his head against the crook of the killer’s shoulder. He long since stopped trying to figure out why and allowed himself to enjoy the attention. _This was good enough._

Their dynamic had changed in what seemed like out of the blue. Jake had been the last man alive, a first when going against The Shape. Jake had been on the ground then, goring the earth in an attempt to crawl towards the hatch. And there had been The Shape, staring down at him, watching as he always did. It’d been one of the only times Jake had ever cried during one of these stupid games. He was so, so close. Only a few centimeters more. He had dared himself to hope. What a stupid thing to feel in this realm.

The Shape simply picked him up as if he was a ragdoll and moved him further back. Dropping him again. Then watching. Once Jake was close to the hatch, the same thing occurred. Upon the third time, Jake didn’t even budge. Irritation coursed through his veins and he didn’t care _who_ he was talking to. “Just kill me,” he had snarled up through his tears. “If you’re going to end it, just end this.”

There was the slightest tilt of The Shape’s head. Maybe he was debating with himself— if that was even possible for the killer. Then The Shape obliged his request, bringing his pipe down against the survivor’s head, and Jake awoke with a start by the campfire.

In the trials that came after, it was clear to Jake that he had begun to be treated much more… _favorably_ by the killer. Instead of being the first to die, he’d find himself watching as his friends were pursued with the hunger of a wild animal. Even when he’d shove himself into The Shape’s path to take a hit or to take a chase, the killer wouldn’t take the bait. All his friends would be sent back to the campfire, leaving a single piece of prey for the predator. The two would do a little dance, one final chase. Whoever got the hatch was the victor— The Shape would stand there, slam his foot down on the thing the second Jake came close, and then drive his knife into him. If Jake found it first, he’d wait there smugly until the killer approached him before he jumped into it.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a pointless diversion. Yet there was something so thrilling about their little game of chance. Jake choked on his spit as the first finger entered him, neither carelessly nor kindly. The Shape gave him time to adjust himself before he slid in a second, flexing them as they searched for the survivor’s sweet spot. Then one more. Each stroke makes him writhe against his statue of a partner. Jake desperately wished he could kiss the killer’s chapped lips, taste the evil within, _but this was good enough._

Jake squeezed his eyes shut as The Shape continued to work him. His now neglected cock throbbed and begged for release, but he knew if he relented he’d find himself at the campfire. So instead he swallowed and tried not to linger too much on the feeling of fullness. The killer was not making it easy, for as soon as Jake began to grow silent his pace quickened until Jake began to say his name like a prayer—

_“Michael, Michael, Michael.”_

He never knew that any of the killers had names. It was Laurie who told him, though part of him wished he had stayed in ignorance. It made The Shape human— someone who had a name, a history, and desires. Jake did not dare think that the other dangers of the realm were once people too. No human being could be capable of the atrocities they committed towards their fellow man.

Especially not The Shape, who never uttered a word. For the longest, Jake thought he was simply an empty husk being controlled by the entity. A ruthless killing machine. Jake dared himself to stare back into those eyes. He wished the lighting was better, but from how close he was he can make out specks of blue. Was there any emotion behind those eyes? God, he wanted to know so badly it was _killing_ him.

It’d been a rough trial, the first time they became intimate. The Shape, perhaps bored of Jake’s favorite game, had pursued every survivor without much care of who he caught. Steve was the first to go, then Zarina. Dwight and himself were the last ones left. Dwight was someone Jake admired— not very confident in himself but still did what had to be done to ensure everyone’s survival. A natural leader, even if he was the first to protest it.

Jake was on the floor of the Hawkins Laboratory, vision blurry and growing darker by the second. His leg was bleeding profusely and each knife wound made its presence known by bellowing in pain. The Shape had left him for dead on his hunt for Dwight. Jake stared at nothing until dress shoes came to his vision. “No,” he tried to groan out.

_Just find the hatch, Dwight._ His lips moved, but no words came out.

But Dwight hushed him, nervously looked around, and began to wrap up his leg. “We can still make it out.”

“No,” Jake tried again as if that was a good enough argument. Dwight was always stubborn when it came to his self-preservation. The leader himself was in rough shape, one eye swollen shut, and his shirt a bloodied mess. Jake watched tiredly, but his eyes widened as a shadow loomed over the other man. “Dwight—”

And that was the end of that.

The Shape picked up Dwight, an easy stab to the chest, and he was flung like a toy. Jake watched in horror as Dwight tried to stammer out an apology to him, as he choked on his words and the light left his eyes. This trial was finished. The Entity would surely be pleased with the killer.

Jake used the last of his strength to roll over onto his back then, panting from exhaustion and blood loss. The Shape stood over him, watching him. He was so large, he blocked out the light. “End it. End me,” Jake begged.

The Shape didn’t move. He just stared. It was one of his few hobbies, it seemed.

“Oh come on!” Jake groaned out, spitting blood out. Each word was a labored struggle. “You want me to wave a white flag? You win.”

The Shape picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Jake let out a quiet “oof”. Oh. So it was this game again, huh? Jake waited for them to begin their search for the hatch. For the killer to throw him down and slam his last hope in his face. But he didn’t move. This was new. Jake stayed still, afraid of what was to come. They lingered like that for a while, until The Shape slashed his knife against a metallic pipe.

It was like a secret language. _Move._ Jake swallowed nervously but struggled against the man until he broke free. As normal, The Entity rewarded him some motion back to his limbs. Jake stood there like a moron, absolutely perplexed, staring at the white mask. Neither of them moved. The Shape had never let anyone struggle out of his grasp before. 

This was just part of the game, he realized. Jake took off. He didn’t bother checking if the other man was behind him. He was close to freedom. So close. So—

Jake let out a strangled cry as the killer began to enter him. God, it felt so good. _It felt so good._ “M-Michael!” He hated that the other man was taking his time, making him comfortable. The Shape’s cock was larger than anyone Jake had ever taken before, which made sense considering what a behemoth the killer was. He didn’t want to feel comfortable. He wanted to feel like what he was, prey. That was all he was. “More, give it all to me, p-please…” He was babbling now.

The Shape ignored him, continuing to enter him without hurting the smaller man. One might think it considerate— if they didn’t know the killer. Jake was smarter than that; Jake knew that The Shape didn’t want this to end too quickly. Jake just had to be patient, _this was good enough._

Jake had found the hatch. But he had not found it in time. The Shape hovered over it and Jake held the knife wound on his side and let out a quiet little _“Oh fuck me”._ Of course, the killer had known where it was before he let him go. Whatever made the game end, he supposed. Yet although his mind accepted his fate, his heart was thundering with fear. He stepped towards it. 

The Shape didn’t move.

Jake stepped closer.

The Shape didn’t move.

Jake grew cautious then. Slowly, he made his way closer and closer but still, The Shape was motionless. Was he planning on striking him first? Jake was already in such pain, he couldn’t bear to think of another jab of the knife. The hatch hummed tauntingly. He paused, eying it. If he could just… run towards it. He could make it first before The Shape landed another hit. He took a deep breath and sprinted to his goal. He was about to jump in when The Shape grabbed him by the neck.

Jake wheezed at the sudden loss of air as The Shape’s grip around him tightened. Jake’s legs flailed in the air and he clawed the killer’s arms feebly. This wasn’t how he killed! This wasn’t fair! His vision turned spotty, his lungs squeezed in any attempt to get some oxygen, and _oh god_ the sensation was too much. The fear coursing through him had, much to his dismay, begun to turn into something else.

_“Michael,”_ He rasped out. The fingers around his neck twitched. Those hollow eyes bore into his vision, engulfing his sight in the darkness.

He was dead. 

The grip on him relaxed and he’s able to give a deep inhale. Relief flooded him, and he forced himself to ignore the slightest part of him that was unhappy The Shape let go. He found himself against the wall, much like his current position. The killer took him with as much mercy as his kills, but Jake adored every single second of it. Once they finished, The Shape had let him go through the hatch. Jake limped towards it, the killer’s fixated stare burning into his skin.

Jake was in a daze as The Shape continued to pound into him over and over, having since picked up his pace. Each thrust into him was a new burst of adrenaline and euphoria. No one had ever made him feel this way before, no one except the devil. The Shape’s labored breathing is a symphony to him. His eyes drooped, staring at the mouth of the other man’s, watching as his lips parted ever so slightly. It was still stained with the survivor’s blood. He licked his own lips, fascinated.

He decided, then and there, that this _wasn’t_ enough. He doesn’t care about the consequences. He needed more than this little game of theirs. He wanted love, not another quick fuck. He cupped the man’s face and it caused the killer to pause. This would cost him his life, but that was fine with him. He bent down, pressing his lips against Michael’s.

Michael was still, lips pursed, but Jake’s tongue drags against his teeth and the killer allowed it. Jake broke out into a hot sweat, and he waited for the knife. For the darkness. For the campfire. But instead, Michael returned the kiss with hunger. Jake allowed Michael to take the lead then, to stick his tongue in Jake’s mouth and consume him whole.

Michael continued his thrusts, faster still, at a pace that caused Jake to released a muffled cry. Jake needed air, but Michael held the kiss longer still. The survivor’s cock only twitched with a renewed excitement. It was only until the killer needed air himself did he pull away, a trail of saliva keeping the two interlocked for a second longer. 

Michael returned his hand to Jake’s cock, stroking it with a renewed intensity as they kissed once more. Jake tried so hard to hold back but found it an impossible task— he spilled himself into the killer’s hand. Michael followed shortly after with one more brutal thrust. He held the survivor in place, panting into his neck. Jake sighed dreamily, legs still twitching from the overstimulation. 

_Yes. This was good enough._

**Author's Note:**

> i just think they're neat. ty megidola for telling me not to scrap it and for the beta read ♥


End file.
